Harry Potter and the Young Hunter Mk2
by MrLegionNation
Summary: Harry has just learnt about magic, after years with the Dursleys. In spite of the joy Harry feels about knowing the truth, those years with the Dursleys have left Harry broken. Yet, on the Hogwarts Express Harry meets another first year, very different from himself, yet also suffering. In spite of their fast friendship, this boys carries a burden, a secret that he mustn't share.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: This Changes Everything…**

Harry woke with a start, sitting bolt upright in his bed, in the cupboard under the stairs. He was used to seeing the dank and miserable surroundings of his 'room', yet he could never quite shake the feeling that he hated the place, no matter how many times he was told by his aunt and uncle that he was lucky to have it. Heck, if what his his aunt and uncle told him about his parent's deaths was true; he was lucky to be alive, yet just by looking at how differently he was treated compared to his cousin, Dudley, he couldn't help but feel that he was missing something… something… more. Harry was about to follow this line of thought, when...

 _Crack, crack, crack!_ 'Get up! Up now! I need you in the kitchen to look after the bacon and eggs!' Aunt Petunia was knocking on the door, breaking Harry from his musings. 'I hope you remember why I'm getting you up this early!'

Harry dragged himself out of bed and started fumbling for the light switch. 'Yes, Aunt Petunia, I remember.' Harry flicked on the light and started rummaging through the clothes that he had lying around, trying to find something clean and wearable, as his washing was only done once a month, compared to once a week for the rest of the family. 'It's Dudley's eleventh birthday, today and I am cooking his breakfast.' Harry was always forced to recite his instructions, whenever Aunt Petunia or Uncle Vernon made him do something; or planned to have him do something, before actually going off to do it, just in case he "blew all of it to pieces".

'Good, it seems that brain of yours hasn't rotted away yet, I'm surprised… _HURRY UP!_ ' Screeched Aunt Petunia, making Harry jump and fall off his bed.

It took a few minutes searching but eventually, Harry found an old t-shirt, pair of jeans, socks, shoes and a belt that weren't too dirty, but all except the shoes were old hand-me-downs from Dudley. Quickly throwing on his clothes, trying hard not to think about the unfortunate circumstances that gave him the luxury of his own _new_ shoes, Harry open his cupboard door and rushed into the kitchen, taking the spatula from his Aunt's hand and setting about cooking the bacon and eggs.

As Harry cooked Dudley's breakfast, Harry took this time to continue his musings, as the only times he really had to himself were when he was cooking or sleeping and both of those times were short. Harry pulled forward the thought of "more" from the back of his mind. He mulled it over and over, trying to find out what this more might be. It couldn't be a home or family, he had those already… But did he really? His Aunt and Uncle were never as nice to him as they were his Cousin, after all, the only reason they bought him new shoes is because they didn't want to pay for a doctor's visit and possible surgery for a broken ankle because Dudley's old shoes were too big for him. If his Aunt and Uncle truly loved him like they did his Cousin, wouldn't he get all new clothes and get them washed at the same time as everyone else? If they truly cared for his health, wouldn't they give him a proper bedroom like Dudley's, instead of a dank, musty, dingy cupboard under the stairs?

Harry was still pondering this question as he placed the bacon and eggs for Dudley, his Aunt and Uncle onto plates and carried them all over to the kitchen table. Harry then pulled a bowl out for himself and began to pour stale cereal, and milk into it, to constitute his breakfast. He sat down at the table and kept quiet and began eating his cereal, ignoring the Dursley's conversation, which was highly unusual for him, as he was expected to always pay attention to them, especially, on important days like Dudley's birthday. Harry had was just about to dismiss the idea that was being mistreated by his Aunt and Uncle, when Dudley threw a massive temper tantrum that brought Harry back into reality.

' _Thirty-six_ ‽ THIRTY-SIX‽ Last year I got thirty-seven!' He yelled, on the verge of crocodile-tears, as he knew his parents would do anything for him, if only he threatened to cry.

At that moment, as Harry expected, Aunt Petunia rushed forward, ushering reassurances, that he would get more presents, when they went to the zoo. 'It's okay, Diddykins, when we go to the zoo we'll buy you two new presents and then you will have one more than last year!'

As Dudley and his Parents argued about how many and what type of presents to get him, several strange thoughts popped suddenly into Harry's head.

' _Diddykins, what a stupid nickname for a child as rude and ugly as Dudley Dursley. Why complain about the number of presents, when the ones he'll get will actually be good?_ '

It's true Dudley was very ugly. Like his father (Vernon Dursley), he was short and fat, with next to no neck, matted rodent-blonde hair and watery blue eyes; kind of like a shallow (dirty) pond. Unlike, Aunt Petunia, who was tall and slender, with an almost disproportionately long next, curly bottle-blonde hair and deep brown eyes.

As for presents, Dudley was bound to receive everything he asked for, including that new computer and TV, the remote control car, the racing bike he wouldn't use. Yet for Harry, it was always the same old rubbish. Dudley's old clothes and toys, that he'd either grown out of, got bored of, broken or a mixture of the three.

The more Harry thought about it, the more it became clear that there was so much missing from this young boy's, after all, he'd never once received a birthday cake, yet Dudley always got a big, delicious looking cake with Icing and strawberries and lollies and…

Harry was now shaking, with sadness and anger that he never thought it possible for any human, let alone he, could feel. Harry was so furious about only now realising that he was so poorly treated that it felt like the whole house was shaking with him. More and more, Harry's anger and sadness flooded his mind, as everything he thought he knew and felt about his life with the Dursleys began to turn upside down. Then as Harry's anger reached a tipping point, something strange happened, the expensive champagne flutes that Aunt Petunia had bought last year, on Harry's birthday; instead of the new pair of glasses he was promised, exploded. Those champagne flutes just shattered, sending glass everywhere in the kitchen.

That and Aunt Petunia's shrill, high-pitched scream of fright brought Harry's flaring emotions down to a simmer, allowing him to fully appreciate the strangeness of it all. Aunt Petunia, leaving Dudley with her husband, immediately rushed over to see how it had happened and when she could find no possible explanation, her eyes widened in fear, as she turned to face Harry.

'How did you do it‽' She shreeked. 'Tell me how you did it or I swear I'll-'

Harry, terrified of Aunt Petunia's sudden and kill crazy turn on Harr over something he had no control over, flung himself onto the floor. 'I'm sorry!' Harry wailed. 'I didn't do it I swear, I swear on my life that don't know how it happened!' Harry was on the verge of crying real tears, when the phone rang.

'I'll get the phone, you clean up this mess.' Hissed Aunt Petunia, as she stormed out of the kitchen to answer whoever had called.

As Harry scrambled to his feet, still shaking from a mix of fear and anger, he ran off to get the brush, shovel, and vacuum cleaner. As he opened the cleaning cupboard and reached for everything he needed, he could have sworn that they jumped into his hands, just before he could touch them properly, not that he'd say that to his Aunt and Uncle of course, they simply hated anything that seemed 'abnormal'. So Harry, laden with his tools, began to clean the kitchen, picking up all the broken glass and making sure it was wrapped properly, to be put in the bin.

While this was going on, Aunt Petunia was talking to Miss Figg, the 'crazy-cat-lady' of Privet Drive. Miss Figg had broken her leg, tripping over one of her cats and was unable to look after Harry for the day. Upon hearing this news, Aunt Petunia went into a frenzy, phoning as many people as possible trying to see who would take Harry off her hands for the day. It was no use though, no one was either willing or able to take him.

'Bad news Vernon.' She said, turning to her Husband. 'Miss Figg has broken her leg and I can't find a replacement.'

At this, Harry's heart soared, he might get to stay home alone and watch some TV; or he might actually _get to go_ to the zoo. While Harry was cleaning and dreaming of the possibilities, Dudley was having an altogether different reaction, he was wailing and screaming, throwing things and slapping his hands on the table, it was quite obvious that he did not want Harry to go to the zoo.

'He'll ruin everything!' Cried Dudley. 'It's my special day and I don't want him coming!'

But there was nothing for it, no matter how much Dudley complained, screamed and carried on, the matter was decided. Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, Dudley, his Best Friend: Piers Polkiss and Harry were going to the zoo. Harry got to go the zoo!

 **A/N: So, I know what you're thinking: "Oh god, he's not even done chapter 4 on 'On Truth's Side of the Gate' and he's starting a new story", or "Oh god, he's going to rehash the first book, right from Privet Drive. We know what happens asshole, get to the point'.**

 **1st, I'm a lazy writer, it's not that I don't write well, I just don't write often and I have a lot of ideas. 2nd, I will, I will. But I kinda have already. An overarching 'meta-theme' (if you want to call it that), is what each main character represents about myself, eg: Harry is my fear and social insecurity and in the coming chapters, he must overcome those flaws and become 'whole'. 3rd, I am taking back my idea from my old HiddenDrakness33 account, I** **AM NOT** **stealing it, just making it better. You get the point, don't expect frequent updates, but please do enjoy.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: The Bad News**

Meanwhile, on the other side of the world, a young boy by the name of Jacob Sortee was waiting for his mother and father to come home, so that he could show them all the new and powerful spells that he could now do. Jacob was not a particularly special or unique child by his people's standards', but his 'people' were freaks, even to other people who could use magic. So for obvious reasons, they chose to keep to themselves as much as possible.

Jacob's people are called Os titulares de Maxia, Galician for 'Holders of Magic, but they call themselves 'Maxia' for short. The Maxia are an ancient group of Magical humans, that once consisted of the most powerful magical humans in the world. Warlocks from Alba; that legend said had learnt from Lord Merlin himself, African Shamans, War Mages of England, Summoners from Poland and Alchemists from France. These people, after generations of association and learning, developed a connection to magic so pure, that they could perform even the most complex spells effortlessly and wandless.

However, this dramatic shift in power frightened the normal Wizards, who tried to exterminate the Maxia; in the same way the non-magical people (Normies), had tried to destroy all Magic users. The war between Maxia and Wizards was short lived, however, as new land; far to the south, was discovered in 1606. This land, known as New Holland, was reported to the Normies as dry and uninhabitable for civil society, so the Maxia flooded there; with their families and any remaining friends in tow. The Desert at the center of this new land was rapidly turned into a mighty hidden fortress-city, with the Maxia quickly adjusting to their climate, making friends with the local Aboriginal clans and family groups; learning and sharing their magical knowledge.

This pleasant status quo existed for over a century and a half, until the first large scale group of Normies arrived in 1787, marking the beginning of the British Colonisation of the Australian landmass. While the world changed rapidly through the coming centuries, the Maxia remained, hidden and waiting, waiting for a day when the Wizards would be ready for the Maxia to rejoin them.

Jacob was born into a Maxia family whose task was to maintain this secrecy and enforce Maxia law onto anyone who fell under it. His family's role, alongside several others, were uncreatively named Enforcers and Jacob would join their ranks as soon as he was old enough. Naturally Jacob trained from the moment he could talk and walk to control his magic and use it to defend himself and his people… and to punish lawbreakers. With his magic, Jacob could levitate objects, create and control fire; water; air; the earth still provided a challenge but he was getting there. This time, Jacob had just got the hang of creating 'non-physical' spells like stunning spells, and basic hexes and curses, and was keen to show his new skills to his father and mother.

Following his parents instructions, he continued to train in the large room his father had relegated for the purpose, conjuring powerful blasts of coloured light, shooting them at enchanted targets; some were human shaped, while others looked like centaurs, trolls, vampires and all manner of Magical Creatures. After all, if what the Maxia's agents were saying was true; which it was; as many were high ranking Government officials all over the world, Wizard-Everyone else relations were not as rosy as they should be.

Jacob had just blasted a particularly brutal blasting curse into a troll target, shattering it into fragments, when he heard a crashing sound coming from the direction of the front door of his family home. It wasn't normal for his parents to be so loud, they normally like to come in quietly to observe Jacob's training without disrupting him, whenever they burst in; making that much noise it meant something bad had happened… as is weeks or months long missions bad… and they might have to… to… kill again. "A horrific inevitability of our duty as Enforcers" Jacob's father always said after those kinds of missions.

'Jacob, Jacob!' Called a deep voice; with the unmistakable twang of the Aussie Bloke. 'Jacob, get to the safe-room and stay there until I come get you!.'

Jacob barely had time to register what the voice, which was almost certainly his father's; but it could have been his uncle's, had said when a loud rumbling reverberated throughout the house, followed by explosions and screams of terror. Jacob didn't need to be told twice and took-off, bursting from the training room and sprinting down the elaborate 'corridor of ancestry', towards the safe-room. As he pressed on down the corridor, the confused portraits on the walls called to him, asking to know what was happening.

'Dear Greatest Grandson? What is going on‽' Called the favorite of his ancestors. 'Have the enemy found us?' The enemy referring to wizards who tried to kill the Maxia in the 1600's.

'I don't know, I'm just doing as I'm told!' Jacob called back, reaching the end of the hall and barrelling head first over a lounge chair, through a doorway, down a flight of stairs, before crashing into a hardened steel door. Jacob slammed his hand into the door, pouring some of his magic into it, causing the door's complex locking mechanisms to click and churn; allowing the door to swing open.

As soon as the door was open, Jacob threw himself inside and slammed the heavy door shut behind him using magic, the safe-room was fairly comfortable, furnished with plush chairs and finely hand carved tables, but it was not a nice place to stay, as it was only ever accessed during emergencies, like the one he was in right now. With nothing else to do, Jacob sat in one the chairs in the room and closed his eyes. He knew his mother and father would come and get him soon, so he tried his best to sleep, and waited.

After goodness know how long, the door to the safe-room swung open, Jacob opened his eyes to see who it was that was collecting him. Standing in the doorway, was the frame of a strong looking man, at least 190 centimetres tall, with broad shoulders and fine, straight black hair.

'Father!' Yelled Jacob, as he ran forward to embrace his father. 'What happened out there? Who or what was responsible‽'

Jacob looked into his father's deep, green eyes and could see a sadness there. His father's face was set, with an expression of utter shock and despair.

'Come, my son, sit with me.' As Jacob's father spoke, his voice trembled and his hands shook. 'The battle I have just come from is the result of a most disgusting crime!' Jacob was now sat in a chair across from his father as he continued to speak. 'Several of our number have betrayed us. News reached Enforcer Command roughly 10 years ago that a powerful dark wizard was defeated. It was suspected that his power came from him being a Maxia born from wizards, though we don't know for sure, nor do we fully understand that which lead to his defeat. I tell you this because, news has come forth, indicating that this dark wizard is not dead, but looking for a way to return to power and several of our more… impatient fellows... rushed to aid him in this goal. We tried to stop them, but they resisted and fought their way out of our city and have fled into the desert. They-'

Although Jacob was listening intently to his father, there was something that was bothering him greatly. 'Father? Where's mother?'

Jacob's father took a sharp breath in. 'Your mother met the leader of the traitors, Skhal Yorsef, in combat… They fought viciously for a great length of time, eventually your mother bested him and forced him to his knees, she was about to finish him, when he started pleading for his life. Your mother, she hesitated; just for a second, but a second was all he needed. Skhal, he - he - he -' Jacob's father couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence and started to cry. However, Jacob knew how that sentence would end and he started to cry too.

The two remained like that for a unknowable long time, sitting in the safe-room and crying, at some point, Jacob had crawled into his father's lap and the two continued to cry. Eventually, the crying gave-way to sobbing, to deep gasping breaths, to normal breathing. Jacob and his father sat and hugged some more, before Jacob felt his father shift beneath him, grab him by the waist and move him, so that he was looking in his father's eyes.

'My son, thank you for showing and sharing in your grief with me, and forgive this old man for burdening his onto you, but there is more I must tell you.' His voice was low and serious, any hint of his 'bloke-ish twang' gone from his voice. 'Skhal and his followers, looking for this dark wizard, have fled to Europe; with their families in tow and Enforce Command and the Wizard and Normie Intelligence Agency are putting together a task force to stop these traitors before they complete their goal. Several Enforcers, Intel Agents and their families are being sent overseas, to Europe to complete this task, you and I are to be among them. The funeral ceremonies for the dead are tomorrow, including your mother's, then the day after, you and I leave for the United Kingdom. We will keep an eye out for Skhal and his fellow traitors but you will also be attending a wizarding school while we are there, as Command expects this mission to take many years, if they traitors have linked up with this dark wizard.'

Jacob listened intently to his father's words and learned his part in the mission in every detail, asking questions at every turn. The role Jacob was to play was simple, make friends with students who would be able to help him slowly reveal the existence of the Maxia.

'Oh, one last thing, I will not be able to continue your training at the wizard school, but the Headmaster there… Dumbledore, I think his name is, is a Wizard born Maxia; I will talk to him about continuing your Enforcer training at Hogwarts.'

Jacob nodded and began pestering his father for more details about the mission, although his father insisted that was all he knew for certain. But unbeknownst to Jacob, as the worst day in his young life came to a close, the best day in Harry's young life; was taking a drastic and unwanted turn.


	3. Chapter 3

**From Bad to Worse**

Harry woke up in his cupboard after several hours, his head was throbbing after the thrashing Uncle Vernon gave him. He wasn't sure why he was beaten so harshly, but he knew that the Dursley's blamed him for what happened with the Snake at the zoo.

Harry didn't know what happened in the reptile house. He was just talking to the snake there; a Brazilian Boa Constrictor, then Dudley came over and knocked him down. As Harry fell, he could remember wishing for something bad to happen to Dudley, like getting him trapped in the snake's enclosure and then, much to Harry's surprise it happened! Just like that, the glass disappeared and Dudley fell forward, into the enclosure and the snake leapt out, on the ground and slithered away. Harry could have sworn that the snake spoke to him, as it left.

'Thankssss, amigo. I own you one.' Harry heard the snake say.

Harry was thinking these events over and watching them in his mind's eye, silently giggling as he watched Dudley's fat, stupid face, twisted in fear as he toppled forward into the tank. He knew a knock at his door was coming, probably for another beating, yet he didn't know when it would come. So when, the knock finally came, it was a surprise to hear it coming from the front door, not his cupboard door.

Harry could hear Uncle Vernon thumping from the living room, muttering distastefully about the disturbance he must now endure at this hour. Harry heard him stop thumping as he reached the door and unlocked it, still muttering grumpily.

With false cheer in his voice, Harry heard Uncle Vernon speak to whomever was at the door. 'Yes, hello? What… can I do for, my good man?'

'Hello, yeh wouldn't 'appen teh be Vernon Dursley o' number 4; Privet Drive, would yeh?' Came the gruff voice of a highlander.

Clearly startled by this sudden recognition by a stranger, Vernon responded. 'Why… uhh… Yes I am. And who, my good man, are you?'

Harry could scuffling and creaking noises and angrily muttered protests by Uncle Vernon. ' _The stranger must be forcing his way in_ ' thought Harry.

'My name's Hagrid, I've come on behalf of Albus Dumbledore. I'm 'ere to see Harry Potter.' The quite scuffling immediately became more pronounced and aggressive, as Vernon tried to stop this "Hagrid" from entering his house. 'Wha's got inter yeh, Dersley?'

Uncle Vernon had started to yell his protests, then he was cut off as a terrified yelp, in his voice came forth instead, followed by a slamming of the front door.

Harry leapt up from his bed and began to eagerly listen at the door of the broom cupboard, he wasn't sure what was happening in the hallway, but he wanted to be absolutely sure that what was happening before he drew attention to himself. As he listened to the commotion outside his cupboard, Harry became increasingly aware of the background noise, or very clear lack of it.

'Look, Dursley, I just need teh talk to Harry Potter-'

A howl of rage cut off Hagrid mid-sentence. 'There are no Potters here! Get out of my house you bloody vagrant!' Roared Vernon. This display of rage was quickly followed by another yelp, followed by a squeal.

'I know there's a Potter here, Dursley.' Growled Hagrid. 'I know there is because I was there when he was left on your doorstep 11 years ago! _Now where is he_?'

There was a tense since that followed, where neither Vernon nor Hagrid said anything. It felt like the silence was going to drag on forever, when Harry rose his fist to bang on the door. Then all at the same time, three voices rang out.

'Help, help! I'm in here, it's Harry Potter!'

'Daddy? Daddy! What's going on!'

And Petunia, who let out an ear splitting scream that should have surely alerted the neighbours.

There was more thumping and scuffling sounds from the hallway, and the sound of more than a few fragile objects breaking. Harry was about to take his chance again, raising his fist to knock on the door to his cupboard, when the door violently flew open; accompanied by a loud bang.

Falling forward, Harry was blinded by the light in the hallway, he couldn't stop himself from crashing into whatever was in front of him. The thing Harry collided with felt both soft and solid at the same time, like a person in a thick coat, it also smelt musty and unwashed; it didn't smell bad; kind of like it was left in forest and never cleaned. Pushing himself off the… person? That he'd crashed into when his door blew open, Harry took stock of his surroundings and found himself face to face with an absolutely giant man. This man was at least 7 feet tall, maybe more, with shaggy hair and a full beard and mustache to match. He had beetle black eyes and he was wearing a tan, animal hide jacket that reached to his ankles.

''Ello, Harry!' The man said cheerfully. 'I'm Hagrid, Rubeus Hagrid. I've come to talk to you about something very special.' He smiled and placed an enormous hand on Harry's shoulder, nearly knocking him off balance, before turning to Uncle Vernon, who was staggering to his feet; rubbing his throat, and growled. 'But first. What was he doin' in that broom cupboard, Dursley?'

 **A/N: So... about the long wait for another upload/update... No joke, both my computers stopped working within about a week of each other and I didn't have the money to do anything about it until about a month ago... so yeah, sorry about that. Will try to make up for it now that I have them back.**


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